Sparks
by mademoiselleblair
Summary: She leaned forward to kiss him, letting a curtain of red hair fall over the two of them." -- Fluff and smut from my favorite couple, Harry and Ginny! T for sexual content. Canon, set in September after DH.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Everything belongs to JKR. If I had my way, this scene would be written into DH. Harry/Ginny are my favorite ship!

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_Harry simply stared. Gaped. Was there any other reaction? His mind could barely wrap around the fact that the half-naked witch he had been kissing just seconds before was truly his. With a toss of her fiery mane, she had broken their kiss to whisper a single word. "Ready?" she asked, eyes gleaming. She traced a slender finger down the center of his chest, as if to make sure he knew exactly what she meant. _

How long had he waited for this moment? He had walked away from Ginny too many times – at first, to preserve his friendship with Ron; later, to protect her from Voldemort. Then, finally, he had defeated Voldemort. Ron had even given permission for the two to date, "as long as you two can keep your tongues in your own mouths whenever I'm around," he had added gruffly.

Yet their relationshp hadn't been able to flourish. Ginny was distraught over Fred's death. Memories of Fred whirled through her head so often that she claimed she could hear his voice teasing her and cracking jokes every time she and Harry kissed. Most days, Ginny locked herself in Fred and George's old room and cried. She recoiled at Harry's touch and snapped at Mrs. Weasley's pleas for Ginny to come downstairs for meals.

Ron spent nearly all his time with Hermione. After Harry had accidentally walked in on Ron caressing a topless Hermione, the happy couple began to spend more time at Hermione's parents' house in Muggle London and made it clear that they'd rather Harry didn't join them. Harry had had a lonely summer so far. With the older Weasleys – Charlie, Bill, Percy, and George – living elsewhere, Ron glued to Hermione's side (or lips) at all time, and Ginny sobbing over Fred's old wand or school books most of the time, Harry spent most of his tiem allowing Mrs. Weasley to fuss over him like a surrogate son and explaining how lightbulbs work to Mr. Weasley.

He didn't expect much for his eighteenth birthday. The Burrow was still cloaked in mourning. Besides the Weasleys and Hermione, his closest friends – Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin – were gone, just like Fred. He didn't have any family left other than the Dursleys, who would rather eat live spiders than set foot in the Burrow with fully-fledged wizards and witches. No, Harry did not expect much of a birthday celebration at all.

He was rather surprised when Ron and Hermione insisted on treating him to an afternoon in Hogsmeade. Harry felt slightly guilty for enjoying butterbeer and strolling up and down Diagon Alley under the warm July sun while Ginny sat at home, most likely starting in on a new crying jag. Yet he needed to escape the Burrow. Fred had been gone for over six weeks now, and the oppressive gloom that had fallen over the Weasley household was far too depressing to handle. A fun afternoon in the glorious sun was exactly what Harry needed.

When he expressed this fact to Ron and Hermione, a knowing look spread across Ron's face.

"I get it, mate," Ron nodded. "That's why I've been spending as much time as possible at Hermione's. I can't stand the Burrow anymore."

"Er – I thought..." Harry began, thinking of the afternoon when he had walked in on Ron and Hermione together. "Never mind."

Ron understood immediately and reddened. "Ah, well, I suppose that, too. It's bloody hard to get a room with everyone milling around."

"Get a room?" Harry asked. "What exactly are you two doing at Hermione's every day?" He knew he was prying but didn't care – Ron and Hermione were his best friends. He deserved to know.

"Nothing special, really. I've been teaching Ron to use the telephone properly," Hermione said. "I've been catching up on loads of reading. There's a new edition of _Hogwarts, A History _that talks all about You-Know-Who's defeat."

"Oh, get off it, Hermione. We've been shagging," Ron said matter-of-factly.

"_Ron!_" Hermione cried.

"What, I can't even tell Harry?" Ron asked indignantly.

Hermione blushed. "I didn't think you were planning on announcing it in the middle of Diagon Alley," she hissed.

"I love it when she's mad. Sexy, eh?" Ron said, winking at Harry. "I tell you, it's brilliant. She does this thing with her tongue -" Ron began enthusiastically.

Hermione clapped a hand over Ron's mouth. She had turned completely scarlet and was unable to make eye contact with Harry.

Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew Ron and Hermione were serious, but he hadn't realized exactly how serious.

"I don't need to know all the details," he said, more for Hermione's sake than his own.

"Oh, sorry," Ron said, not looking the least bit apologetic. His smile faded as he asked, "You and Ginny – I mean, she's my _sister –_ you two aren't... you're not shagging her, are you?"

Harry gave a hollow laugh. "Not even close."

Ron looked thoroughly relieved.

"She's really upset, Ron. Bursting into tears whenever anyone mentions Fred's name, refusing to eat, spending all of her time in Fred and George's old room... Now she's talking about not going back to Hogwarts."

Ron's face darkened. He bit his lip and looked away for a moment. "Fred wouldn't have wanted it like this." His voice faltered slightly, and Hermione gently took his hand. "He would have wanted her back at Hogwarts – Quidditch captain, raising hell, dating you..." he trailed off.

"Fred's zero for three. Ginny cries every time I try to touch her," Harry said bitterly.

"She's obviously really upset!" Hermione cried. "She's not going to go straight from her brother's funeral to your bed in a week, you know."

Harry heard her mutter something that sounded distinctly like _"Boys!"_ under her breath.

"Give her time," Ron advised. "Ginny's always been like this – intense, emotional. She needs time to cool off, you'll see."

For what may have been the first time in his entire life, Ron Weasley had been right about girls. Harry stepped back for a few days. He stopped trying to give her good-night kisses. He advised Mrs. Weasley to let Ginny take her meals in her room. He even stopped trying to convince her to return to her seventh year at Hogwarts. Sure enough, Ginny began to cool off by the end of the first week of August.

One morning, Harry woke to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. He sat up in bed and reached for his glasses. His eyes were still hazy from sleep, but he could make out two long, pale legs and a mane of waist-length, golden red hair.

"Ginny?"

She closed the door, and it creaked again. "I didn't want to wake you," she said softly.

"Then what..." Harry didn't want to be so rude as to ask her what she was doing in his room, especially since it wasn't even his room – it was Percy's old bedroom.

"I've missed you," she said, crossing the small room and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I've missed you, too," Harry said quietly. "I didn't want to intrude."

"Intrude on what? My crying jags?" Ginny asked, eyes round and sad.

Harry didn't want to agree with her, but couldn't deny that Ginny had spent the majority of the summer wailing over Fred's old wand and robes. He settled for the noncommital gesture of taking her hand in his.

"I just needed time," she said, lacing her fingers into his. "I realized that I can't sit in Fred's room forever. He wouldn't want it that way. I should be raising hell at Hogwarts, Quidditch captain, dating you."

Ginny leaned into Harry and gently kissed him. She felt so soft and fresh against his lips. Harry's flesh screamed for more, but he didn't protest when she pulled away.

"You've been talking to Ron?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," she nodded.  
"He told me the exact same thing, nearly word for word. It's true, you know. You can't lock yourself up forever. You're young, beautiful, the best Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen – Fred wouldn't want you to hold yourself back because of him." Harry didn't know exactly what Fred would and wouldn't want, but anything would be an improvement over sobbing day and night.

"Then I won't hold myself back," she said, kissing him again, more deeply this time. Without breaking the kiss, she leaned into Harry, hooking her arms behind his neck. Harry ran one hand through Ginny's silky hair and placed the other on the small of her back. He allowed it to slip lower as the kiss progressed, neither of them willing to surface for air. Their lips fit together so perfectly, one curve pressing into the next. Ginny pulled away first, slightly breathless.

"I've missed that," she said, smiling broadly for the first time in weeks. "I've missed _you_," she said, resting her head on Harry's chest.

Her gaze travelled from Harry's face down to their intertwined hands resting on Harry's stomach, to the disturbance under the bedcovers. He shifted uncomfortably, attempting to hide his arousal. Ginny pretended not to notice at first, but couldn't help herself. She was curious.

"We should talk," she announced after a brief silence. "About us. And _that_," she said, gesturing to Harry's lap.

"I didn't mean to," Harry said quickly, shifting around under the covers again. He tried to think of something incredibly unappealing – Dudley and his revolting girlfriend Fawn Watkins, Snape's greasy hair, _anything_ besides Ginny's tongue sliding across his and her hands roaming across his body.

"No, that's not what I meant," Ginny replied with a laugh, sitting up. "I don't mind, really. I'll take it as a compliment, if you'd like. I just meant that we should talk about doing more than snogging."

Ginny turned onto her side and lay down, propping herself up on her left elbow, her right arm draped across her body to hold Harry's hand. Whether intentional or not, her right arm pressed her breasts together and they rose slightly out of her nightgown. Harry tried to focus on her eyes.

"I'd like that," Harry mused. "But only if you're ready." Ron's voice played loud and clear in his head. _"She's my _sister_ – you two aren't... you're not shagging her, are you?" _

"I'm not a little girl anymore. I'll be seventeen in a few days' time. Seventeen is the age of consent, according to the Ministry of Magic."

"Just because you're seventeen doesn't mean you're ready," Harry countered.

"Pushing me away, are you? I never thought I'd see a teenage boy turn down sex," she said playfully.

"I'm not pushing you away. You're as sexy as hell, Gin, and you know it," Harry responded, willing himself to avoid staring at her breasts. "Just think about it for a few days, promise?"

"Oh, you know I'll be thinking of you," she responded with a smile.

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**A/N: **What do you think? I've never written HP fanfiction before, so we'll see how this one turns out. The rating may go up in the next few chapters - I'll give you a hint and tell you that Ginny thinks for a few days and comes to a definite conclusion that will make Harry Potter one lucky wizard.

Liked it? Hated it? All reviews are welcome. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'd rate this PG-13/R. Not extremely graphic, but this chapter is almost entirely sexual content. You've been warned!**

**Many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorited this story! Reviews keep me motivated to write more. Thanks! :)**

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With their romance rekindled, Ginny and Harry spent nearly every waking hour together. If they weren't soaking up the warmth on the Burrow's lawn, they were snogging in Ginny's bedroom or ambling down Diagon Alley hand in hand. As abruptly as their relationship had been put on hold, it had sparked again. Suddenly, Harry's summer at the Burrow didn't seem so lonely anymore. He didn't mind the small _pop_ as Ron disapparated to see Hermione, nor did he mind the afternoons when Mr. Weasley was at the Ministry and Mrs. Weasley was visiting George at the joke shop – every chance he and Ginny had alone together was an opportunity for quick, greedy tongues and fingers fumbling with bra straps and belt buckles.

The night before Ginny's seventeenth birthday, Ginny crept into Percy's old bedroom to visit Harry. It was late and the entire house was still, yet Harry lay awake. His smile was illuminated by the moonlight as Ginny slid under the covers, her warm body pressed against his.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," she whispered.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you, either," Harry whispered back. He tucked a loose tendril of red hair behind her ear and let his lips graze hers gently.

Without hesitation, Ginny kissed back firmly. She slipped her hand into Harry's and guided it into the opening of her bathrobe until his hand cupped her breast. Harry's hand was precisely the right size to encompass her curves, but he soon found that his mouth was a much better fit. He rolled her nipple around with his tongue and Ginny arched her back in response, a small _oh! _escaping from her lips.

Harry set to work exploring every inch of Ginny's body. He wanted to run his hands across every inch of skin, including the cluster of freckles on her left shoulder and the warm depths between her thighs and the soft expanse of skin across her back. Pulling open her bathrobe, he planted small, soft kisses on every body part he crossed, until he had marked her entirely. If Ginny was self-conscious or embarrassed to be so utterly bare, she didn't let Harry catch on.

"My turn," she whispered.

She pulled Harry up to standing beside the bed and slid off his boxers. She had felt him before, but seeing his bare body exposed like this was new. Ginny knelt in front of him, eyes glowing. She placed her hands on Harry's narrow hips and leaned forward, wrapping her lips delicately around him.

Harry's stomach jolted and he felt the blood rush from his head to his core. Ginny's words from last week echoed in his mind. _I'm not a little girl anymore_. He looked down and saw a curtain of red hair pump back and forth, perfect pink lips sliding across his cock. No, she wasn't a little girl anymore. Before long, Harry's knees grew weak and his body began to tremble; he grasped the headboard for support but he couldn't do anything to stop the fervent pleasure building underneath the pit of his stomach.

"Ginny – don't – stop – " he managed to grunt in between thrusts.

One doe-eyed look up from behind thick lashes and he was gone. He stumbled backwards onto the bed, shuddering and serene. Ginny crawled into bed next to him, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand in as ladylike a manner as she could.

"Thanks," Harry said, slightly breathless. What were you supposed to say in this situation? Harry would typically ask Ron, but he didn't think Ron would appreciate the thought of his little sister on her knees. "You're incredible."

"My pleasure," she said, grinning and blushing at the same time.

"Pleasure's all mine," Harry said.

He hesitated, remembered that Ginny had in fact wiped her mouth, and leaned in for a kiss. Ginny's lips were slightly swollen; Harry felt unusually proud.

"I talked to Hermione," Ginny said. "She taught me some spells."

"You're thinking about spells right now?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not just any spell. She taught me birth control charms," Ginny said quietly.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "You're really ready, then?"

"Ready," she said fiercely, trailing a finger down the center of his chest. The incantation is _'impedo nato.'_"

Harry grabbed his wand off the nightstand and performed the spell. A slight tingling sensation whirled around his cock for a fleeting moment.

Ginny didn't waste a second. She leaned eagerly in for a kiss; passionate, urgent, deep. Again, her remark about not being a little girl anymore surfaced in Harry's mind. In a few hours, she would come of age. Seventeen. As they kissed, Harry's hands traced her curves, his hands roaming across her breasts, down the valley of her waist, curved around her hips, drifting down her thighs.

"Mm..." Ginny hummed. Her skin crawled with anticipation; Harry's touch only intensified her alacrity.

Harry, sensing her urgency, eased her onto her back without breaking away from the kiss. When he finally sat up, he positioned himself directly over Ginny so they were hip to hip.

"Tell me you're ready," he said firmly.

She reached out to stroke his cock. It hardened and swelled at her touch. "I'm ready," she replied, "and, by the looks of it, so are you."

Harry locked eyes with Ginny and kissed her one more time. He guided himself to Ginny, feeling skin on skin. Wordlessly, he lowered himself inside to the hilt. At first, Ginny gasped, eyes wide. It was a snug fit.

"Don't stop," she said faintly.

He thrusted again and again, and before long, he found a rhythm. _ONE, two, three; ONE, two, three –_ an intimate waltz. He pounded into Ginny every desire he had. She shook beneath him, pain veiled behind round eyes, limbs twitching in pleasure.

Whether it was seconds or hours – Harry wasn't quite sure – rolling waves of pleasure hit Harry over and over until he lost control completely. He collapsed next to Ginny on the bed.

"I didn't want to hurt you," he said, nestling her thin frame under his arm.

"I didn't want you to stop," she replied fiercely. "A girl's first time isn't usually easy. Of course, practice makes everything better."

"We have loads of time to practice before you head back to Hogwarts," Harry mused. "Let's have another go, say, tomorrow night?"

"You'd wait that long?" Ginny asked in mock horror. "Why not tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning it is," Harry agreed.

Before long, Ginny had fallen asleep, her head resting on Harry's chest. Her own chest rose and fell slowly as she slept. By the blinking red numbers on clock on the nightstand, Harry knew there was still an hour until Ginny's seventeenth birthday. She hadn't officially reached the age of consent, yet Harry had made love to her anyways. Harry Potter had never quite played by the rules.

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**A/N: I love writing Harry and Ginny! Let me know what you think of this chapter. Reviews are always welcome!**


	3. Chapter 3

As Ginny's mood steadily improved over the past week, the morbid gloom had begun to lift from the Burrow. Of course, Mrs. Weasley was still prone to bursting into tears at the drop of a wand, and George had barely uttered a single word – much less a joke – since Fred had died, but the mood had gradually begun to lighten. Ron and Hermione hung around the Burrow more often, cautiously dropping by for meals and often staying for hours afterwards, reminiscing of their Hogwarts years with Harry and Ginny.

On the evening of Ginny's birthday, Mrs. Weasley threw a small party.

"Of course, it's n-not the _same_ without F-F-Fred," she whimpered, dabbing her eyes with a well-worn handkerchief. "But it will do, won't it, Ginny?"

Mrs. Weasley invited a few of Ginny's Hogwarts friends – Luna, Neville, and Dean – to enjoy an exceedingly large pot roast, a bottomless keg of Firewhisky, and a snitch-shaped cake along with the rest of the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione. On the surface, the party was pleasant – stories were told, candles were blown out, birthday wishes were made. Underneath, however, Mrs. Weasley was close to tears the entire time, fretting, "If only Fred were here!" George spent the majority of the evening locked in his room. As Mr. Weasley served the cake, his mouth set in a heavy line, he remarked that chocolate had been Fred's favorite flavor.

When the last bits of cake had been scraped from everyone's plates, Mrs. Weasley cleared the table with a flick of her wand.

"Time for presents!" she announced. "Instead of a watch as a traditional coming-of-age present, I thought this might be more appropriate," Mrs. Weasley said, handing a long, slender package to Ginny. "Go on, open it."

Ginny untied the ribbon and lifted the cover off the box. Inside, a thin, golden bracelet lay nestled in a bed of cotton. The bracelet's charm, a dangling golden heart, shone in the light as Mrs. Weasley clasped it around Ginny's wrist.

"Your father gave this to me when I turned seventeen," she said, smiling for what felt like the first time in months. "He was quite the romantic."

Ron gave Ginny a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt, autographed by Gwenog Jones herself. Hermione presented her with an enormous leather-bound book, embossed with the title _Albus Dumbledore, Legendary Wizard: A Biography_. Even George emerged from his bedroom, sullen-faced and empty-eyed, to unceremoniously dump a box of Puking Pastille's in front of Ginny.

"My present is outside," Harry said.

Giving Harry a curious smile, she walked outside. A long, lean broomstick hovered three feet above the lawn. Ginny ran a hand along the broom, noting its obvious craftmanship and impeccable design. _Firebolt _was etched into the handle in thin, golden letters. She shrieked at the sight of it, throwing her arms around Harry.

"A Firebolt? A Firebolt! You bought me a Firebolt?" Ginny squealed, blushing at the implied cost. She knew Harry's Gringotts account was enormous, but nevertheless, a Firebolt was a seriously expensive gift.

In a fit of delight, Ginny kissed him passionately, not caring that her parents and several of her brothers stood only inches behind Harry. He wrapped one arm around her slender waist and let his other hand trail through her hair. Ginny responded enthusiastically, slipping her tongue into Harry's mouth and caressing his cheek with her hand.

"Break it up, break it up," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Keep it clean, all right?"

Ginny blushed. "If you and Hermione don't 'keep it clean,' why should I?" With that, she turned back to her new Firebolt. "Harry, mind if I practice riding it?"

"Go ahead. I'll watch," Harry said. He sat back in the grass to watch Ginny soar into the air as the rest of the party filed back into the Burrow. Ron hung behind and flopped down in the grass next to Harry.

"What did she mean by that?" he asked, a funny expression crossing his face.

"What?"

"You heard her – _'If you and Hermione don't 'keep it clean,' why should I?'_" Ron repeated.

"Er, dunno," Harry said, avoiding meeting Ron's eyes by watching Ginny make an impressive dive, pulling up her broom at the last possible moment.

Ron sat silently in the grass for a few moments, studying Harry. "You didn't – " Ron began uncertainly, his voice trailing off. He glanced over at Harry. "Nah."

"What?" Harry asked, glancing nervously at Ron.

"It's nothing, really. She couldn't have."

"She couldn't have _what_?" Harry insisted.

Ron paused. "Well, you heard Ginny's comment about her not keeping it clean. She's couldn't have meant she was shagging you, could she?" Ron laughed and shook his head.

Harry froze.

"You two didn't sleep together, right?" Ron looked up uncertainly.

There was a short silence. Ron turned very, very pale.

Harry cleared his throat. "We _are _dating," he reminded Ron.

"I didn't ask if you were dating; I asked if you shagged her!"

Harry decided the best approach would be to get it over with fast, like drinking a particularly nasty flask of Polyjuice Potion in one gulp. "Yes," he said firmly.

Ron leapt to his feet. "She's my sister!" he yelped.

"She's my girlfriend," Harry reasoned.

"But – but – she's so young!" Ron sputtered.

"She's seventeen now. That's the age of consent," Harry reminded him.

"Age of consent? I swear on Merlin's saggy left – " Ron began to protest.

"Hey, it's not like you had a problem with _Lav-Lav_ when _you _were seventeen," Harry replied hotly.

"Hey, keep it down, will you? Hermione doesn't know we shagged and I intend to keep it that way," Ron hissed.

Harry didn't respond. Instead, he watched Ginny fly a lap around the roof of the Burrow. His heart surged when he saw her thick red hair stream behind her as she zoomed through the air.

"Blimey," Ron said softly. "You really care about her. I can see it all over your face."

"Yeah. I really do."

"You feel the same way about Ginny that I feel about Hermione?" Ron asked.

Harry recalled the private smiles Ron and Hermione exchanged, the way the couple looked at each other as if transfixed, their constant need to be near each other.

"I do," Harry nodded.

"Then... treat her right," Ron said slowly. "And, please – for her sake, not mine – keep the shagging to a minimum, at least at the start? You'll want her to be able to walk, won't you?"

"Er, right, thanks for the tip."

"Any time, mate. Just spare me the details from here on out. She _is_ my sister."

"Got it."

Ron went inside, unable to leave Hermione for more than ten minutes. As he reached the door to the Burrow, he glanced back at Ginny, then Harry. He shook his head with a soft smile, and went inside. He knew Harry would treat her right.

Late that night, after the guests had left and a considerable amount of Firewhisky had been drunk, Harry slipped into Ginny's room. She lay on her side, inhaling and exhaling slow, steady breaths. Harry crept into bed beside her, not wanting to wake her. He simply wanted to lay beside her. Admire her. Be with her.

Ginny stirred beside him.

"Harry?" she asked.

"I wanted to see you," he said sheepishly. Crawling into her bed to watch her sleep hadn't sounded nearly as creepy until he had to say it aloud. "I can leave, if you'd rather sleep."

"No, don't leave! I want to take advantage of being seventeen and all the benefits that come with it," she said.

"Benefits?" Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow. _Did she mean...?_

"Using magic outside of school. I can perform the birth control charm myself now," she said proudly.

"Let's give it a go, then," Harry said, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

This time, Ginny didn't wince as he entered her. She didn't bite her lip and grimace as he thrusted his hips towards hers with such force the headboard clunked against the wall. Instead, she rolled over, bodies still connected, so she lay on top of Harry. He continued to move in and out of her, eliciting a sultry moan from Ginny. She clenched the sheets in her fists and rocked back and forth in time with Harry. Her voice reached a high, breathy pitch.

"Don't... don't stop... almost... _oh!_"

She suddenly gasped and spasmed, releasing a long, gratified moan. Harry came only moments later, and they peeled their bodies apart.

"There's definitely something to be said for practice," Harry panted.

"Much better the second time around," Ginny said, breathing hard.

"Much," Harry said, half-relieved that Ginny wasn't in pain and half-proud that he had performed so well.

Ginny traced a finger along his jawline, tipping his face to meet hers. "Don't leave," she whispered.

Harry twined his fingers into hers, pressed their sides together, and relaxed against the pillows. "I won't," he whispered back.

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**A/N: **I wasn't thrilled with the ending. It's a little sappy, but then again, you're reading pure fluff and smut. :)

Please review! All reviews are greatly appreciated - they're my motivation to keep going.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up! School has been absolutely hectic lately. The term is ending next week, so I'm completely bogged down with tests and essays. Additionally, my family is moving next weekend, so I'm busy packing. I wish I had more time to write! Anyways, let me know what you think of this chapter. :)

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The remainder of August slipped by in a flash full of Firebolt rides and lazy afternoons lounging in the grass. September was approaching near: the oppressive heat had already begun to cool to a calm, warm breeze and Mr. Weasley returned to work at the Ministry full-time after taking a summer holiday. Yet, the truest sign of September, in Harry's mind, was the arrival of Hogwarts letters.

A handsome tawny owl flew in through the kitchen window a week before the start of school. Ginny received her seventh and final letter sealed with a solid red stamp and addressed in McGonagall's tightly-looped script. Ginny skimmed the letter and tossed it aside morosely.

"Not interested in reading your letter?" Harry asked, surprised. He had always looked forward to his Hogwarts letters. His school was the one place he felt he truly belonged.

"It's hard for me to be excited about going back to Hogwarts when I know I'll have to leave you," Ginny said, wrapping an arm around Harry and leaning against him.

"But you need to finish your seventh year," Harry reminded her.

"You didn't," Ginny said pointedly. "Neither did Ron, nor Hermione."

"Oh, right, I forgot – finishing school is loads more important than ending the war and defeating Voldemort," Harry said. "_Ow!_"

The tawny owl had bit his hand, leaving deep teethmarks behind. The owl proffered his leg, revealing another letter tied around his thin thigh. The letter was identical to Ginny's, although this one was addressed to Harry.

Harry ripped open the top of the envelope and pulled out the letter.

"Hang on – it's from McGonagall," he said with a smile.

"She's Headmistress now," Ginny noted, reading the return address on the envelope. "I wonder why she's writing to you?"

"_'Position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor vacated' ... 'Pleased to inform you' ... 'I would be honored to have you join Hogwarts' staff' ... 'Hope to see you soon' ..._" Harry read aloud.

"Harry!" Ginny squealed, eyes round. "You have to go!"

_Go back to Hogwarts. Teach Defense. See Ginny every day. _It was almost too good to be true. Harry wanted to be an Auror very badly. He had fought against Voldemort too many times, escaped death more often than seemed possible, met challenges that wizards five times his age couldn't dream of. Even so, it wasn't enough. With Voldemort gone, the Death Eaters were disgraced, fallen; however, the crimes continued. Mysterious Muggle deaths occurred every few months – far and few between, easily explained by common Muggle causes – but Harry knew they were the work of dark wizards. Draco was roaming the Wizarding world, free. If left alone, who knew what he could become in a few years' time? Would he become a murderer? Worse?

Yet as eager as Harry was to return to the rough battle of the Wizarding world, he was tired. Tired of living on the run for a year, tired of endangering everyone around him, tired of watching his friends and family die one by one. A year of teaching at Hogwarts would offer a safe place to rest, bountiful meals, and the opportunity to pass on valuable Defense skills to young wizards and witches. It would mean a year with Ginny – just one more year, then she would graduate and he would train to be an Auror. With Voldemort gone, a happy, lasting relationship seemed just in grasp.

"I'll do it," Harry said firmly.

Ginny squealed again and bounced up on her toes to lightly peck Harry's lips. "I don't think I'll mind going back to Hogwarts, after all," she said, giving him a knowing smile.

There was a loud _pop! _as Ron and Hermione Apparated into the kitchen, hands entwined.

"Did you say Hogwarts?" Hermione asked interestedly. "I didn't know you made up your mind about going back."

"I wasn't completely set on it until Harry got _his_ Hogwarts letter," Ginny said, smiling broadly.

Ron elbowed Harry. "What, did Snape flunk you out of Potions for defeating You-Know-Who?" he snorted. "Going back to finish up seventh year?"

"Ron, it's quite admirable of Harry to take his education so seriously. Don't tease him," Hermione admonished.

"I'm not finishing school. McGonagall invited me to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry said.

"Oh, Harry! That's wonderful!" Hermione said, embracing him a soft hug. "I couldn't think of anyone else more qualified for the job."

"Dunno, Lockhart was bloody well qualified, eh?" Ron muttered, winking at Harry.

"You're comparing me to Lockhart? Please, if I ever brag about winning _Witch Weekly_'s Most Charming Smile Award three times in a row, kill me," Harry replied drolely.

"Five times," Hermione corrected, a slightly dreamy look briefly flitting across her features.

"Oi!" Ron said. "Snap out of it! Besides, I'm _much_ better looking," he added. "Lockhart was a lousy git."

Before Hermione could begin to mention how lovely Lockhart looked in lavender, a second owl flew in through the Burrow window, clutching two letters in it's beak.

"There's one for each of us!" Hermione said excitedly.

She opened hers neatly and unfolded the letter. Her eyes wildly took in the letter. Although there was nearly a full page of writing, she appeared to have read the entire contents of the letter in a matter of seconds.

"McGonagall asked me to teach Muggle Studies!" she cried. "Oh, it will be so good being back at Hogwarts again. I can start up S.P.E.W. again!"

"Madame Hooch's retired now, so I'm Flying Instructor," Ron said happily.

Congratulations were exchanged. For the first time in more than a year, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be back at Hogwarts together. There wouldn't be any nasty Potions essays to worry about or dreadfully boring History of Magic classes to sit through. McGonagall would no longer reprimand Harry for silly things like breaking school rules; instead, he would be treated as a fellow professor. Harry could attend all the Quidditch matches and watch Ginny fly circles around the Slytherin team. Yes, teaching at Hogwarts would be excellent.

Before long, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione slipped through the wall between platforms nine and ten and boarded the Hogwarts Express. Once they had boarded, Ron led Hermione to a separate compartment at the back of the train. Harry and Ginny searched for their own compartment and went inside. Ginny laid with her head in Harry's lap and stretched out her long legs across the seat.

"Once we're at Hogwarts, we might need to be more careful," Harry said as he stroked Ginny's hair.

"I don't want anyone else making moves on you – a little PDA and we'll let them know you're mine," Ginny said, voice honey-smooth.

She stood up and straddled Harry, pressing her hips into his. She leaned forward to kiss him, letting a curtain of red hair fall over the two of them. As they kissed enthusiastically, moving together as one entity, Ginny's skirt slid up her thigh, bunching at her hip. Harry ran a hand up her leg, fingertips slipping underneath the hem of her skirt. Skin tingling with anticipation, Ginny guided Harry's fingers to the right spot. Harry had just slid two fingers into her when the compartment door slid open. Ginny pushed herself off of Harry and rolled into the seat next to him, tugging her skirt towards her knees as she did so.

"Hello, Ginny, Harry," Luna said brightly, appearing entirely oblivious to what she had nearly walked in on. "I didn't know you were going back to Hogwarts, Harry."

"Er, yeah. Last minute decision. I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Harry said, shifting in his seat to hide his arousal.

"It'll be like Dumbledore's Army all over again, won't it!" Luna said happily.

"I suppose," Harry said.

Before he could say any more, Ron and Hermione slid open the compartment door, hand in hand. Hermione was blushing, her bushy hair wild; Ron looked very pleased.

"You two smell like argworms," Luna said serenely.

"Excuse me?" Ron asked.

"Argworms feed off of human lust," Luna said, seemingly unaware of the effect her words had on Hermione, who turned scarlet.

In reality, Luna either didn't know or didn't call attention to the enormous amount of tension in the room. Harry was just beginning to regain control of his body; Ron seemed physically unable to keep his hands off of Hermione, who was blushing and unable to meet Luna's gaze; Ginny slipped her hand into the pocket of Harry's robe and began stroking him lightly through his clothing. Luna, however, was quite content to tell tales about a Crumple Horned Snorkack she met over the summer. By the time the train arrived at Hogwarts, the four were very keen to leave the compartment, which seemed to grow smaller and more uncomfortable by the second.

As professors, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Great Hall through a back entrance. Sitting at the long table of professors at the front of the hall, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of coming home. Hogwarts was where he belonged. He felt at peace here. Gazing out into the sea of students watching the Sorting Hat sing, Hermione at his left and Ron at his right, Harry couldn't think of any other place on earth he would rather be.

* * *

**A/N: Review, please? **


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